


Disease

by Thranduelflings



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Boy Love, Cancer, Love, M/M, Major character death - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-17
Updated: 2014-01-17
Packaged: 2018-01-09 02:40:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1140463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thranduelflings/pseuds/Thranduelflings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was once a light in Harry's eyes; one that Draco never thought would go away. Those eyes, Draco thought as he looked down at Potter sadly, a choking sigh of foul air escaping him, Those beautiful, beautiful eyes...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Disease

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fic about... Two or three months ago? Anyways, it's from my fanfiction.net account.

There was once a light in Harry's eyes; one that Draco never thought would go away. Those eyes, Draco thought as he looked down at Potter sadly, a choking sigh of foul air escaping him, Those beautiful, beautiful eyes...

And he was right, they were beautiful. Harry's eyes were the colour of emeralds; emeralds that looked impossible to shatter and and impossible to sadden. Draco, however, knew this to be quite wrong. Draco had seen such a breaking, heart wrenching sadness in the eyes of Harry Potter. Like the night that Cedric Diggory died, Ah, Draco remembered the look in those eyes. The hard, emerald stone that was Harry Potters eyes had shattered; like a part of him had been ripped away.

Draco continued to look down on the sickly potter, examining his features; His jet black hair that once shone brightly, was now greasy and tangled beyond belief; Harry's once plump cheeks were now just mere speckles of something that you wouldn't even call healthy, wide stretches of bone stuck out beneath his paling skin; He seemed a lot thinner now, as if he had been starved for a month. Just the hospital food, thought Draco, probably not that filling...; Lastly - but never least - Came his eyes once again, they were... Different some how. As if the bright shade of emerald green had been dulled with black and grey and white. They donned a kind of milkiness now...

Slowly, ever so slowly, Harry's eyes opened, his frail arm reaching up and taking a hold of Draco's hand. "D- Draco." His voice was hushed, weak and far from reassuring.

Draco reached back down, trying not to let the tears fall as they continued to burn the back of his eyes. "Potter..."

Harry chuckled softly, the effort that he had to put into laughing surprised Draco and he blinked before looking down at their hands. "How are you, Draco?"

How am I? Draco wanted to shout, you're the one dying... He knew that he couldn't, he had already said enough words of regret to Harry in all the years they knew each other and now was not the time to start up long discussions of witty come backs as he laid in the infirmary bed. "I'm fine, Potter... How're you going? Are they taking care of you?"

Harry nodded weakly and reached for a small, stout glass of water by his bed side table, his frail arm knocking the glass to ground, cringing as it shattered into a small thousand pieces. "Yes... I-"

"Shhh... Here, I'll get you some water." Draco slowly stepped away from the bed, almost unwillingly, not wanting to leave his side, he walked over to the sink, filled up a glass with water, and walked back over to Harry, helping him sit up. "Here..." he put the cup at Harry's mouth, he took small sips and flashed a thankful smile.

"Thank you. The treatments make my throat rather scratchy."

"It's no problem... I'm always here for you, Potter. I want you to know that."

Harry nodded weakly and smiled, Draco was surprised at how much effort it took.

Draco stepped back from the infirmary bed once again and looked down at him, wanting so badly to just hold his hand and stay. "I- I should be going."

"Wait!" Harry shouted out and sat back up, using what must've been all the strength he had. What a long way he'd come from the energetic, special, bright-eyed, pale skinned boy that he once was to this; A diseased, shivering, weak, lonely sack of flesh of a man with no more mission; What a long, long way.

Draco turned in sudden surprise and looked at him, his brows raised as he fixed the short tail of tight fitted black jacket. "Yes...?"

"Stay."

"Stay?"

"Stay..." he said mildly, "please. Ron and Hermoine won't be here for a while... D- Don't leave me alone."

Draco could hear the fear in his voice, as if being left alone was his worst nightmare. He walked hesitantly back to the bed, back to him, and sat in the pale olive coloured chair that stiffly stayed beside him. Draco took Harry's hand and slowly Harry began to sleep.

The days had turned into weeks, Hermione and Ron visited everyday whereas Draco, well, Draco just stayed there in the chair, practically glued to the seat.

There were so many changes that made Draco believe in Harry's recovery; his eyes returned to their normal colour; he ate again; he walked and played and laughed... It gave Draco a sense of hope -even if it was false hope- and that hope kept him going, made him stronger...

Then... There was a change, it was as if he had gotten worse, he couldn't walk, eat, sleep, drink... He couldn't do anything. He wasn't himself.

"You have to eat," Hermione would plead as she held the forkful of food up to his mouth, hopeful that he may take a bite.

It took well over an hour for him to accept the small fork of food, even then he doubled over in pain, worrying lines formed on the faces of Ron, Hermione, and Draco. All of whom just stood and watched as he vomited up the small amount of food with choking sobs. There it was again, the shattering of those emerald eyes, the downfall of Draco. They all idly watched as he began to cry and lay back down in his bed, Hermione reaching out and covering him with the blanket as the tears continued to stream down his face.

"Visiting hours are over, children." The nurse would say, Hermione would bury her face in the curve of Ron's neck and just look at Harry sitting still, waiting for the pain to vanish. Draco, however, would just stand there, not saying a word, never daring to bother him. Just staring. Admiring even.

"Goodbye," he would say, his voice barely a whisper.

Draco waited until they had left and snuck back into the infirmary, taking a sear next to Harry.

"Draco." Harry's left eye flicked open as he examined the blonde, smiling softly.

"Harry."

Harry chuckled, it may've been one of the only times that the boy had called him Harry instead of Potter. He smiled wider and turned to him, petting the hard mattress of the infirmary bed. "Lay next to me."

"A- Alright..." Draco stood shakily and sat on the bed, kicking off his shoes before swinging his legs onto the mattress, Harry almost immediately grappling onto him.

Draco had to admit that he liked the feeling of it; of someone holding him. It felt warm, welcome, kind, and happy; Everything that Harry was. Draco soon found his arms plastered around the man, his breath steadying and his heartbeat slowing as he heard the sudden low snore of Harry, he hesitantly pressed a light kiss against his forehead and yawned, falling asleep just a small time later.

Winter was only just approaching Hogwarts. Oh how Harry loved the winter; the feasts in the great hall, the sound of crunching snow, the hot chocolate that was nightly dispensed in all of the dorms, but, most of all, Harry missed the feel of the cold winter breeze on his face. How badly he wanted to leave the infirmary, to escape the bed, to escape the room in which he'd been trapped in, his theoretical prison.

"The cold won't do you any good, boy." The nurse would say almost crossly, "maybe next Winter..."

"If I'm still alive next Winter."

"Harry." Draco looked at the nurse then back down at him, his hand tightly clenching Harry's.

"What?" he looked up at Draco, the nurse leaving to fetch his food.

He felt the tears sting the back of his eyes like a thousand tiny needles, always wanting to cry, always too proud to. "Don't say that."

"But it's true!"

Draco sighed and looked at Harry, "what will make you feel better...?"

Harry pointed to the large window at the end of the infirmary, the snow just starting to fall. "I want to go outside..."

"You know I can't do that."

"You asked..."

"No, Harry, I won't do that."

Harry rolled over away from Draco and nodded, "fine, then go."

"Har-"

"I said go!"

"Look... Fine..." Draco rolled a wheelchair over to Harry's bed, his face slowly lighting up as he looked up at Draco from the bed.

"Y- You'll take me?"

"I see no other choice," he chuckled and slowly helped Harry into the chair, wheeling him out and away from the infirmary before the nurse even got back.

"I don't want to wear a scarf, or socks, or a beanie, or my robes!"

"But... That just leaves you in your pajamas."

"Exactly."

"You'll freeze, numbskull."

"Good, maybe then I'll feel something besides my pain."

Draco was quiet after that, Harry wanted to break the silence but instead drifted his attention to the blurring sights outside of the old windows; the snow covered trees, the students playing, the owls - he swore he saw Hedwig - and even the sights of the teachers were enough to brighten him up. Everyone stared at the two boys, many students noticing the many missing clumps of Harry's hair, never daring to do or say anything but "hi" with the occasional wave thrown in.

It was after this time that they had passed most of the students - Ron and Hermione included - and were finally at the entrance of the school, Draco slowly wheeled Harry into the center of the snow covered courtyard, Harry grinning at the icy touch of the snow and weakly managed to stand from the wheelchair before abruptly falling in the snow. Draco worriedly peered down at him only to have snow thrown at his face by Harry who was still face down.

"That wasn't funny! I thought you were hurt!"

Harry laughed and threw more snow up at the towering blonde above him, "I can't be anymore hurt than I already am..." he began playing in the snow as he always did; making snowballs, snow men, snow angels... Everything! Harry was practically a child when it came to the snow.

Draco sighed and sat beside him before picking up a handful of snow and watching it drift between his gloved fingers until it was gone in the wind. The way it swashed and swayed had a sort of calming effect, one that was very rare for Draco to find.

He sneezed and looked over at Draco whose face was twisted into a slight scowl.

"Potter. You sneezed, didn't you."

"No, Malfoy, I didn't," he rubbed his nose and continued to look at him before sighing and nodding a "yes." "Ok, yes, I sneezed..."

"Get back in the chair, Potter."

Harry frowned and sat back in the wheelchair, Draco standing soon after and taking hold of the handles, wheeling him back to the infirmary.

"Goodness gracious, Mr. Malfoy! I was worried sick looking for him!" the nurse shouted at them, both Harry and Draco cringing with each booming word as it thudded in their eardrums.

"Yes. I'm sorry, Ms. I can assure you that he's alright."

Another sneeze.

"Maybe a little chilly but alright..."

"Get him into the bed now, Mr. Malfoy. Just for that little stunt of yours you won't be seeing him for the next few weeks!"

Draco thought in his head how he would plead, almost practically giving up the idea of fighting the school. Simple matters were often dealt with by his father, but, Harry was no simple matter.

Out of the infirmary he walked. Draco knew it would be a long couple of weeks.

The weeks seemed to drift by slowly, each class taking it's boring toll on Draco. All he could think of was Harry.

Every dream that he had, every nightmare, was haunted by his thoughts of Harry. What if he's gone by the time the ban lifts? thought Draco one night, soft, silent tears slowly sliding down his cheeks.

The day finally came when Draco was allowed to go back and see Harry, his skin crawled at how much he had changed in these past few weeks. He had gotten thinner - if that were possible - and a cold sweat seemed to always drip from his skin. He was now almost completely bald with only a few mere clumps of hair left on his scalp and he had apparently refused to eat everything.

"You're being difficult," he had said after some time of just watching, it seemed to be the only thing he could do seeing as he had no words anymore, anything he might say could cause him to break down, he didn't want that, not now.

"I'm not being anything, Draco," he snapped at him, Draco's frown making deep lines at the edges of his mouth.

"You ar-" he was abruptly cut off.

"I already said I wasn't doing anything."

"Eat. Please. For me."

"I don't want food... I'm not hungry."

"You have to eat, they can't give you your medication otherwise."

"Eating makes it worse."

"And the medication will make it better... Just- Please."

"If you're only going to nag me then maybe you should leave!" Harry tried to sit up, sudden pain spreading through his stomach as he coughed.

"Fine! I don't know why I ever tried to help you, Potter!"

"Never come back!" were the final words before Draco stepped out of the infirmary once again, he wanted to run back, he truly did, but his pride got in the way as it always did, so he went on, head held high and tears slowly falling down his face.

He didn't expect the call to come in the middle of the night but apparently it had.

Never did he think that it would happen this way.

That the boy who lived would be taken down by something as mere as this.

The whole of Hogwarts had gathered in the Great Hall for the service, all except for one.

All except for Draco Malfoy. Did he regret not going? Yes. Would he go and let the whole of Hogwarts, even Slytherin, see him cry? No.

What a proud, proud person he was that he crept down to the hall during the night and stood in front of his casket. It was made out of a polished, lacquered, brown wood that oozed the scent of winter and of the forest. There was no sound. Not even the owls hooted that night nor did the mice creep. Nothing. It was just Draco standing in front of the casket.

Harry's portrait had been placed on top of the wooden lid and large wreathes of flowers were hung and spreaded all over the hall.

Draco wished he had been there to say goodbye, to see Harry's eyes close and know that they would never open again. He wished so, so hard yet he knew that nothing would change. All hope of his wish coming true was as dead and gone as Potter was.

The snow crept in again that night, as if the whole world had been silenced and decorated with white to honour the death of one boy. One special boy.

Outside Draco went as the snow batted down and the tears froze on his face, he didn't mind though, he enjoyed the feeling of something other than his pain.


End file.
